波波小说

chater ten the agician bk（第1页）

THEinvisiblepeoplefeastedtheirguestsroyally．Itwasveryfunnytoseetheplatesanddishescomingtothetableandnottoseeanyonecarryingthem．Itwouldhavebeenfunnyeveniftheyhadmovedalonglevelwiththefloor，asyouwouldexpectthingstodoininvisiblehands．Buttheydidn’t．Theyprogressedupthelongdining-hallinaseriesofboundsorjumps．Atthehighestpointofeachjumpadishwouldbeaboutfifteenfeetupintheair；thenitwouldcomedownandstopquitesuddenlyaboutthreefeetfromthefloor．Whenthedishcontainedanythinglikesouporstewtheresultwasratherdisastrous．

“I’mbeginningtofeelveryinquisitiveaboutthesepeople，”whisperedEustacetoEdmund．“Doyouthinkthey’rehumanatall？Morelikehugegrasshoppersorgiantfrogs，Ishouldsay．”

“Itdoeslooklikeit，”saidEdmund．“Butdon’tputtheideaofthegrasshoppersintoLucy’shead．She’snottookeenoninsects；especiallybigones．”

Themealwouldhavebeenpleasanterifithadnotbeensoexceedinglymessy，andalsoiftheconversationhadnotconsistedentirelyofagreements．Theinvisiblepeopleagreedabouteverything．Indeedmostoftheirremarkswerethesortitwouldnotbeeasytodisagreewith：“WhatIalwayssayis，whenachap’shungry，helikessomevictuals，”or“Gettingdarknow；alwaysdoesatnight，”oreven“Ah，you’vecomeoverthewater。Powerfulwetstuff，ain’tit？”AndLucycouldnothelplookingatthedarkyawningentrancetothefootofthestaircase-shecouldseeitfromwhereshesat-andwonderingwhatshewouldfindwhenshewentupthosestairsnextmorning．Butitwasagoodmealotherwise，withmushroomsoupandboiledchickensandhotboiledhamandgooseberries，redcurrants，curds，cream，milk，andmead．TheotherslikedthemeadbutEustacewassorryafterwardsthathehaddrunkany．

WhenLucywokeupnextmorningitwaslikewakinguponthedayofanexaminationoradaywhenyouaregoingtothedentist．ItwasalovelymorningwithbeesbuzzinginandoutofheropenwindowandthelawnoutsidelookingverylikesomewhereinEngland．Shegotupanddressedandtriedtotalkandeatordinarilyatbreakfast．Then，afterbeinginstructedbytheChiefVoiceaboutwhatshewastodoupstairs，shebidgoodbyetotheothers，saidnothing，walkedtothebottomofthestairs，andbegangoingupthemwithoutoncelookingback．

Itwasquitelight，thatwasonegoodthing．Therewas，indeed，awindowstraightaheadofheratthetopofthefirstflight．Aslongasshewasonthatflightshecouldhearthetick-tock-tick-tockofagrandfatherclockinthehallbelow．Thenshecametothelandingandhadtoturntoherleftupthenextflight；afterthatshecouldn’theartheclockanymore．

Nowshehadcometothetopofthestairs．Lucylookedandsawalong，widepassagewithalargewindowatthefarend．Apparentlythepassageranthewholelengthofthehouse．Itwascarvedandpanelledandcarpetedandverymanydoorsopenedoffitoneachside．Shestoodstillandcouldn’thearthesqueakofamouse，orthebuzzingofafly，ortheswayingofacurtain，oranything-exceptthebeatingofherownheart．

“Thelastdoorwayontheleft，”shesaidtoherself．Itdidseemabithardthatitshouldbethelast．Toreachitshewouldhavetowalkpastroomafterroom．Andinanyroomtheremightbethemagician-asleep，orawake，orinvisible，orevendead．Butitwouldn’tdotothinkaboutthat．Shesetoutonherjourney．Thecarpetwassothickthatherfeetmadenonoise．

“There’snothingwhatevertobeafraidofyet，”Lucytoldherself．Andcertainlyitwasaquiet，sunlitpassage；perhapsabittooquiet．Itwouldhavebeenniceriftherehadnotbeenstrangesignspaintedinscarletonthedoorstwisty，complicatedthingswhichobviouslyhadameaninganditmightn’tbeaverynicemeaningeither．Itwouldhavebeennicerstillifthereweren’tthosemaskshangingonthewall．Notthattheywereexactlyugly-ornotsoveryugly-buttheemptyeye-holesdidlookqueer，andifyouletyourselfyouwouldsoonstartimaginingthatthemasksweredoingthingsassoonasyourbackwasturnedtothem．

Afteraboutthesixthdoorshegotherfirstrealfright．Foronesecondshefeltalmostcertainthatawickedlittlebeardedfacehadpoppedoutofthewallandmadeagrimaceather．Sheforcedherselftostopandlookatit．Anditwasnotafaceatall．Itwasalittlemirrorjustthesizeandshapeofherownface，withhaironthetopofitandabeardhangingdownfromit，sothatwhenyoulookedinthemirroryourownfacefittedintothehairandbeardanditlookedasiftheybelongedtoyou．“IjustcaughtmyownreflectionwiththetailofmyeyeasIwentpast，”saidLucytoherself．“Thatwasallitwas．It’squiteharmless．”Butshedidn’tlikethelookofherownfacewiththathairandbeard，andwenton．（Idon’tknowwhattheBeardedGlasswasforbecauseIamnotamagician．）

Beforeshereachedthelastdoorontheleft，Lucywasbeginningtowonderwhetherthecorridorhadgrownlongersinceshebeganherjourneyandwhetherthiswaspartofthemagicofthehouse．Butshegottoitatlast．Andthedoorwasopen．

Itwasalargeroomwiththreebigwindowsanditwaslinedfromfloortoceilingwithbooks；morebooksthanLucyhadeverseenbefore，tinylittlebooks，fatanddumpybooks，andbooksbiggerthananychurchBibleyouhaveeverseen，allboundinleatherandsmellingoldandlearnedandmagical．Butsheknewfromherinstructionsthatsheneednotbotheraboutanyofthese．FortheBook，theMagicBook，waslyingonareading-deskintheverymiddleoftheroom．Shesawshewouldhavetoreaditstanding（andanywaytherewerenochairs）andalsothatshewouldhavetostandwithherbacktothedoorwhileshereadit．Soatoncesheturnedtoshutthedoor．

Itwouldn’tshut．

SomepeoplemaydisagreewithLucyaboutthis，butIthinkshewasquiteright．Shesaidshewouldn’thavemindedifshecouldhaveshutthedoor，butthatitwasunpleasanttohavetostandinaplacelikethatwithanopendoorwayrightbehindyourback．Ishouldhavefeltjustthesame．Buttherewasnothingelsetobedone．

OnethingthatworriedheragooddealwasthesizeoftheBook．TheChiefVoicehadnotbeenabletogiveheranyideawhereaboutsintheBookthespellformakingthingsvisiblecame．Heevenseemedrathersurprisedatherasking．Heexpectedhertobeginatthebeginningandgoontillshecametoit；obviouslyhehadneverthoughtthattherewasanyotherwayoffindingaplaceinabook．“Butitmighttakemedaysandweeks！”saidLucy，lookingatthehugevolume，“andIfeelalreadyasifI’dbeeninthisplaceforhours．”

Shewentuptothedeskandlaidherhandonthebook；herfingerstingledwhenshetoucheditasifitwerefullofelectricity．Shetriedtoopenitbutcouldn’tatfirst；this，however，wasonlybecauseitwasfastenedbytwoleadenclasps，andwhenshehadundonetheseitopenedeasilyenough．Andwhatabookitwas！

Itwaswritten，notprinted；writteninaclear，evenhand，withthickdownstrokesandthinupstrokes，verylarge，easierthanprint，andsobeautifulthatLucystaredatitforawholeminuteandforgotaboutreadingit．Thepaperwascrispandsmoothandanicesmellcamefromit；andinthemargins，androundthebigcolouredcapitallettersatthebeginningofeachspell，therewerepictures．

Therewasnotitlepageortitle；thespellsbeganstraightaway，andatfirsttherewasnothingveryimportantinthem．Theywerecuresforwarts（bywashingyourhandsinmoonlightinasilverbasin）andtoothacheandcramp，andaspellfortakingaswarmofbees．Thepictureofthemanwithtoothachewassolifelikethatitwouldhavesetyourownteethachingifyoulookedatittoolong，andthegoldenbeeswhichweredottedallroundthefourthspelllookedforamomentasiftheywerereallyflying．

Lucycouldhardlytearherselfawayfromthatfirstpage，butwhensheturnedover，thenextwasjustasinteresting．“ButImustgeton，”shetoldherself．Andonshewentforaboutthirtypageswhich，ifshecouldhaverememberedthem，wouldhavetaughtherhowtofindburiedtreasure，howtorememberthingsforgotten，howtoforgetthingsyouwantedtoforget，howtotellwhetheranyonewasspeakingthetruth，howtocallup（orprevent）wind，fog，snow，sleetorrain，howtoproduceenchantedsleepsandhowtogiveamananass’shead（astheydidtopoorBottom）。Andthelongershereadthemorewonderfulandmorerealthepicturesbecame．

Thenshecametoapagewhichwassuchablazeofpicturesthatonehardlynoticedthewriting．Hardly-butshedidnoticethefirstwords．Theywere，Aninfalliblespelltomakebeautifulherthatutterethitbeyondthelotofmortals．Lucypeeredatthepictureswithherfaceclosetothepage，andthoughtheyhadseemedcrowdedandmuddlesomebefore，shefoundshecouldnowseethemquiteclearly．Thefirstwasapictureofagirlstandingatareading-deskreadinginahugebook．AndthegirlwasdressedexactlylikeLucy．InthenextpictureLucy（forthegirlinthepicturewasLucyherself）wasstandingupwithhermouthopenandaratherterribleexpressiononherface，chantingorrecitingsomething．Inthethirdpicturethebeautybeyondthelotofmortalshadcometoher．Itwasstrange，consideringhowsmallthepictureshadlookedatfirst，thattheLucyinthepicturenowseemedquiteasbigastherealLucy；andtheylookedintoeachother’seyesandtherealLucylookedawayafterafewminutesbecauseshewasdazzledbythebeautyoftheotherLucy；thoughshecouldstillseeasortoflikenesstoherselfinthatbeautifulface．Andnowthepicturescamecrowdingonherthickandfast．ShesawherselfthronedonhighatagreattournamentinCalormenandalltheKingsoftheworldfoughtbecauseofherbeauty．Afterthatitturnedfromtournamentstorealwars，andallNarniaandArchenland，TelmarandCalormen，GalmaandTerebinthia，werelaidwastewiththefuryofthekingsanddukesandgreatlordswhofoughtforherfavour．ThenitchangedandLucy，stillbeautifulbeyondthelotofmortals，wasbackinEngland．AndSusan（whohadalwaysbeenthebeautyofthefamily）camehomefromAmerica．TheSusaninthepicturelookedexactlyliketherealSusanonlyplainerandwithanastyexpression．AndSusanwasjealousofthedazzlingbeautyofLucy，butthatdidn’tmatterabitbecausenoonecaredanythingaboutSusannow．

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